“Then stop doing it! I haven’t made you live that way. You’ve done it to yourself.”
“And now I have to figure out how to undo it.”
“I can’t believe how selfish you’re being. Do you want a divorce, Lynn? Is that what all this is leading up to? Because if you want a divorce, you just tell me now. I’m not living in this limbo forever. Just tell me right now.”
He waited to see her shock. What he had suggested was unthinkable. But there was no shock, and he began to panic. Why didn’t she tell him to stop talking so crazy, that their situation wasn’t nearly bad enough to even think about divorce? But once again, he’d miscalculated.
“Maybe that would be for the best.”
He went numb.
She got a faraway look on her face, almost dreamy. “You know what I wish? I wish we could start all over. I wish we could meet each other again with no past history, just two strangers getting acquainted. Then, if we didn’t like what we found, we could walk away. And if we did like what we found . . .” Her voice grew thick with emotion. “The playing field would be level. There’d be a—a balance of power.”
“Power?” Fear churned inside him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She regarded him with a look of pity that cut right through him. “You really don’t, do you? For thirty-seven years you’ve had all the power in our relationship, and I’ve had none. For thirty-seven years I’ve had to live with the fact that I was a second-class citizen in our marriage. But I can’t live that way anymore.”
She spoke so patiently, like an adult explaining something to a child, and it enraged him.
“Fine!” He lost his ability to think clearly and acted on raw emotion. “You can have your divorce. And I hope you choke on it.”
He threw down a wad of bills he didn’t bother to count, shot up from his chair, and stalked from the dining room without a backward look. As he hit the hallway, he realized he was sweating. She’d turned his life upside down from the day he’d met her.
She wanted to talk about power! From the time she was fifteen years old, she’d had the power to twist his life out of shape. If he hadn’t met her, everything might have been different. He wouldn’t have come back to Salvation and been a family doctor, that’s for sure. He’d have gone into research, or maybe he’d have hooked up with one of the big international outfits and traveled around the world to do the work on infectious diseases he’d always dreamed about. A million possibilities would have been open to him if he hadn’t been forced to marry her, but because of her, he hadn’t explored any of them. He’d had a wife and children to support, so he’d gone back to his hometown with his tail between his legs and taken over his father’s practice.
Resentment seethed inside him. He’d had the course of his life irrevocably changed when he was still too young to understand what was happening. She’d done that to him, the same woman who’d sat in that dining room and told him she had no power. She’d fucked up his life forever, and now she blamed him.
He stopped in his track as all the blood rushed from his head. Jesus. She was right.
He sagged down on one of the couches that sat along the wall and dropped his head into his hands. Seconds lapsed, turning into minutes as all the mental barriers he’d erected against the truth grew transparent.
She’d been right when she’d said he’d always resented her, but his bitterness had become such an old, familiar companion he hadn’t recognized it for what it was. She was right. After all this time, he still blamed her.
The many ways he’d punished her over the years came flying back in his face: the fault-finding and subtle put-downs, his blind stubbornness and refusal to acknowledge her needs. All those little punishments he’d inflicted against this woman who was the closest thing he had to a soul.
He pushed his fingertips into his eye sockets and shook his head. She was right about everything.
Jane’s hands trembled as she stroked almond-scented lotion over every inch of her thirty-four-year-old body, including her rounding belly. Sunlight streamed through her bedroom window, and in the next room Cal’s suitcase lay open on his bed, ready for his late afternoon flight to Austin. She’d made up her mind this morning, and now she wanted to do it before she lost her nerve.
She brushed her hair until it shone, then stared at her naked body in the mirrored wall behind the whirlpool. She tried to imagine how it would look to Cal, but all she could think about was how it wouldn’t look. It wouldn’t look like it belonged to a twenty-year-old centerfold.